[center][u][h1][color=#975b1f]~ℌ𝔞𝔯𝔢~[/color][/h1][/u][img]https://emojipedia-us.s3.dualstack.us-west-1.amazonaws.com/thumbs/120/facebook/65/rabbit-face_1f430.png[/img][/center]
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Harry wasn't fully used to this form. He'd rather sprint and hide, which didn’t make him an obvious target for anyone aiming to harm him. Being a Hare, that was nearly any meat eater. His paw continued to fiddle a moment longer with his jacket before his ears caught a sound. Promptly he became still while his nose twitched causing his head to tilt to better identify the source. He kept forgetting his eyes, in his guise, were positioned forward rather than on his head sides. 

So to Roxana it might’ve seemed like he was ignoring her, but he wasn’t. Harry was sizing her up before he spoke. He described her outfit as flamboyant and showy, something you would find in a carnival rather than walking around in town in. Memories sought to recall any news about a new traveling circus in town. Nothing came to mind causing his nose to scrunch up and twitch on alert. 

She skipped his way then made an elegant bow toward him. Her dice earrings bounced a bit as they dangled from her ears. When she stood back up, he noticed she was considered average in height with a painted white face and decorated with markings. 

He nodded at her greeting, confirming what she stated. Politely Harry made a smaller, less flashy bow in respect to the woman. Before he could speak, a larger and older man approached the pair. Harry’s head tilted toward the man’s direction as he took another note over his fellow co-worker. The man was an obvious drunk from his matted up hair to his shabby clothes, the alcohol fermenting on his breath. 

Harry had doubts about the man’s ability to plausibly construct a sentence. He was surprised by the apologized for his lateness and raised a hand to shake causing Harry to raise an eyebrow. The hare didn’t raise his hand to touch the man’s hand. He wasn’t sure how well this illusion would hold, especially since due to its cheapness, before he spoke. 

“I’m a bit paranoid about touch, so I’ll pass on the handshake. Sorry friend,” Harry stated, not taking the hand. 

He continued to address the other two, “I assume you’re also a pup in the Wolf’s Den Agency too? Like her? The name’s Harry Harlan. So let’s head off to Granny Mildred and see where her silly little fleabags went off to.” 

With those words, Harry began to lead the way toward the old woman’s home.